


Sherstrade: You should take a break.

by Readingfanfics



Series: Prompts [94]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Greg has tattoos, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, greg has a beard, sherlock brings food for him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-02-23 09:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23942548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readingfanfics/pseuds/Readingfanfics
Summary: “You’ve been at your desk since two in the afternoon and haven’t moved since then. You've only had 4 cups of horrible coffee and even more horrible tea that Sally has brought you. You haven’t eaten a single thing and it’s now almost,” Sherlock lifted his arm, looking at his watch before answering. “ 7 PM on a Friday evening. You should take a break.”
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Prompts [94]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/545386
Comments: 4
Kudos: 79





	Sherstrade: You should take a break.

**Author's Note:**

> Let's start May with some Sherstrade. Okay?   
> If you didn't know already, I really like the thing where Sherlock goes to Greg with food and they talk and smile and laugh. So yeah, I hope you enjoy. The prompt line was 'You should take a break'.   
> \--------------------------------------------------------

Greg squinted his eyes, trying to make sense of the words in his notebook. He’d taken these notes when it had been around 3 AM. The rain had been pouring down, the wind had been cold and Greg had been more than done with his workday. He’d scribbled the statement of the woman quickly, wishing he was already back home, in his warm bed and now he was paying for that. No matter how much he squinted, he couldn’t make out the words and he let out a curse, throwing his pen across his office. He nearly jumped out of his chair when the pen got caught mid-air, the person catching it shaking his head in mock disapprovement. 

“Not exactly taking care of Yard supplies now, are we Lestrade? I wonder what the Chief would say about such lack of respect for Yard property.” 

“What are you doing here? Please don’t tell me that someone has been murdered.” Greg grunted, rubbing his eyes as he heard the door of his office close. He opened them wide when he heard the giggle, his stomach feeling strange as he met Sherlock’s amused eyes. Sherlock shook his head, placing Greg’s pen on the desk and quickly taking in everything that was on it. 

“Catching up on paperwork I see. Isn’t that pile just as large as the last time you caught up on paperwork?” 

“You are not helping my mood, Sherlock.” Greg grumbled, staring at the stacks of paper offensively and the butterflies in his stomach roared again when Sherlock laughed. The laugh seemed to bounce off the walls, warming up Greg’s office and his very bones. His mouth was open as he stared at Sherlock, his cheeks warming up as Sherlock blinked his eyes rapidly, tilting his head slightly to the side. The silence between them turned awkward fast and Greg cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair as he gestured at Sherlock. 

“So, what are you doing here? I hope you didn’t come all this way just to mock me.” 

“Tempting, but no.” Sherlock answered, the beginning of a smirk on his lips and Greg had to force his eyes to his computer screen for a moment. Sherlock had that effect on him, especially lately. Something had shifted between them ever since John had gotten married and Greg wasn’t sure how to deal with it. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to deal with it. There were moments when Greg was sure Sherlock was flirting with him but he dismissed it only seconds later. As if someone like Sherlock Holmes would have any interest in someone like him. 

“I came for this actually.” Sherlock said, cutting off the rest of Greg’s thoughts. Greg’s nose greedily took in the smell before Sherlock had even placed the large bag on his desk. Greg’s stomach growled just at the sight and Sherlock smiled, pushing the bag in Greg’s direction. 

“ **You should take a break** .”

“Oh, really?” Greg asked, keeping his eyes on the bag as Sherlock opened it, taking out several plastic containers and placing them on top of Greg’s stacks of paper. The smell filled the room, making Greg’s stomach growl louder. 

“You’ve been at your desk since two in the afternoon and haven’t moved since then. You've only had 4 cups of horrible coffee and even more horrible tea that Sally has brought you. You haven’t eaten a single thing and it’s now almost,” Sherlock lifted his arm, looking at his watch before answering. “ 7 PM on a Friday evening. You should take a break.” Sherlock stopped, a hint of shyness in his eyes as he handed Greg some plastic cutlery. Greg took it without a word, his brain still processing what was happening. Sherlock had brought him dinner! 

“This- this is- amazing.” Greg breathed out, opening the container closest to him and letting out a delighted moan when the aroma’s of sweet and sour chicken cubes reached his senses. His mouth watered as he pierced a cube with his fork and brought it to his mouth, letting out an approving sound as the taste exploded on his tongue. His whole body seemed to come back to life as he swallowed, finally noticing how hungry he was. He looked at Sherlock, smiling gratefully at him and Sherlock opened the rest of the containers, taking his own fork and eating. 

“You eat?!” Greg called out, almost choking on some rice. He coughed, his eyes watering and he saw a blurry Sherlock shake his head. He wiped away the tears, swallowing a couple of times and looked up in surprise when a bottle of beer was pushed into his hands. 

“It’s alcohol free.” Sherlock said, shyness in his eyes again before he focused on his food. Greg opened his mouth, wanting to say something but he couldn’t find the right words. Instead, he opened the bottle, taking a sip and letting out a content sigh when he’d swallowed it down. 

“Ta for this, Sherlock. It’s just what I needed.” Greg said, placing his bottle on the desk and gesturing at it. “Not just the beer, all of this. Thanks. I can’t believe I’ve spent that many hours here and these stacks are still just as high!” 

“Maybe it’s magic.” Sherlock responded, grinning when Greg looked at him in surprise. Magic wasn’t something he would associate with Sherlock quickly but then he remembers their conversation at John’s wedding. They’d been talking about books, their favorite writers and stories and Greg had mentioned he’d very much enjoyed the Harry Potter series. Sherlock hadn’t known what he’d been talking about so Greg had shown him a few things on his phone. 

“Harry Potter  and the Philosopher's Stone?” Sherlock had said, giving Greg an unsure look as he handed back his phone. “It sounds like a book for children, why would you read such a thing?” 

Greg had smiled, saying that there was more to a book than it’s cover, or in this case, it’s title. Their conversation had been abrupted by the first dance of the newlyweds and Greg hadn’t thought about it since then. Cleary, Sherlock had. 

“So, you’ve read a children’s book?” Greg asked, taking another sip of his beer. Sherlock nodded, his cheeks a beautiful soft pink and Greg suddenly felt the urge to reach out and caress the skin. 

“You said to give it a try and I did. It wasn’t bad.” Sherlock responded, shrugging a shoulder in a nonchalant way. 

“Wasn’t bad, ey.” Greg said, taking a piece of beef with his fork, smiling widely when Sherlock met his eyes. Coming from Sherlock, ‘wasn’t bad’ actually meant he’d loved it and Greg felt giddy like a child. Not only had Sherlock listened to him, he’d actually gone and found the books, took his time to read them and let Greg know he had done all of that. It made Greg’s heart feel bigger, his body feel warmer. Greg’s eyes were sparkling as he chewed his beef, keeping his eyes on Sherlock as the man pricked his fork in a couple of containers. 

“I can understand why some people would recommend them.” Sherlock said, bringing his full fork of food to his mouth and chewing it thoughtfully. Greg watched him, a little surprised to see him eat. In all the time he’d known Sherlock he’d hardly seen the man eat or drink in front of him. A few people at the Yard joked that Sherlock didn't need normal food or drink because he was a vampire and Greg didn’t have a hard time imagine him as one. Greg smiled around a bite of food but of course, Sherlock saw it, frowning at Greg. 

“Nothing, nothing. I just- I can’t remember if I’ve ever seen you eat so much before.” 

Sherlock rolled his eyes, piercing a chicken cube on his fork and eating it with a defiant look in his eyes. Greg lost it, almost spitting out his beer. He grabbed his stomach as he laughed, leaning back into his chair. He heard Sherlock giggle and when their eyes met they both laughed. 

“Oh my god. That look! You- you have that down to perfection.” Greg breathed out, wiping away his tears with the tips of his fingers, shaking his head a couple of times. Sherlock grinned, shrugging a shoulder before speaking. 

“When you grow up with my brother, it’s an expression you learn quickly.” 

“I can bet. God, I can’t even picture your brother as a child.” Greg said. 

“Just imagine him in a three-piece suit but fatter.” Sherlock smirked, an evil gleam in his eyes. Greg couldn’t help but smile back and they finished the rest of their meal in silence. Greg patted his stomach afterward, feeling full and content. The Yard had died down, only the night staff being present and Greg loved the change in atmosphere it created. He couldn’t explain it but it all felt different at night. He got up out of his chair, pulling a face when his back and knees protested. 

“Not a word.” Greg said, throwing Sherlock a stern look and Sherlock closed his mouth with an imaginary sipper before smiling brightly. Greg rolled his eyes, rubbing his back for a few moments before collecting the containers and cleaning up his desk. 

“Thanks for all this Sherlock. This was great.” Greg said, dumping the containers in the bag and placing it next to his garbage can. Sherlock bowed his head in acknowledgment, standing up and placing his hands on Greg’s desk. His eyes went over all the stacks of paper, flicking to the computer screen before meeting Greg’s eyes again. 

“Can I help?” 

“God no, you’ve done more than enough already. It’s my own fault really, not writing my reports daily. I’ll get there, no worries.” Greg waved a hand, letting out a sigh when he looked down at his desk. He really didn’t want to sit back down in his chair again and try to make sense of his own badly written notes. The food had settled into his body and it was making him sleepy, suddenly realizing how tired he was. His eyes were small, stinging whenever he glanced at the computer screen. His back was aching, protesting with every small movement and Greg yawned, stretching his body. It pulled his shirt up, exposing part of his stomach and when he dropped his arms back down he noticed Sherlock staring at him intently. 

“Sherlock? You okay?”

“I- I didn’t know you had a tattoo.” 

“Several actually.” Greg grinned when he saw the surprise in Sherlock’s wide eyes. He could practically see Sherlock’s brain working as his eyes went over Greg’s body. 

“How many?” Sherlock asked, leaning forward over Greg’s desk, his face in total concentration as his eyes scanned up and down. Greg’s whole body felt on fire, he could almost feel Sherlock’s eyes caress his skin as the moment went on. He sucked in his stomach, feeling like a fool when Sherlock squinted his eyes, a frown beginning on his forehead. Greg’s breath caught as Sherlock’s eyes snapped back to him, his expression unreadable but it sent a shiver down Greg’s spine. The energy between them had changed, Greg’s hands feeling sweaty as he grabbed the headrest of his chair. 

“Are you- do you plan to work more tonight?” Sherlock suddenly asked, stumbling over his words and Greg’s fingers held onto the headrest tighter. His face was warm, his knees felt weak and he needed too many seconds to answer Sherlock’s question. Sherlock walked around Greg’s desk and Greg turned with him, the chair standing between them. Sherlock fidgeted with his hands, his eyes seemingly glued to Greg’s face. 

“I-” Greg started, his brain refusing to work anymore and he let out a strange sound when Sherlock smiled at him. It was a smile he’d never seen on Sherlock’s lips before and it made Greg want to trash the chair to the ground and push Sherlock against a wall to kiss him. 

“Lestrade.” Sherlock whispered, his irises dilated and Greg’s heart fell down to the ground. He took a few steps backward, tongue twisting over all the words he wanted to say as he held his hands up but Sherlock shook his head, coming closer and rolling the chair underneath Greg’s desk. 

“I’m not good at this, Lestrade. Forgive me for being blunt but-but- I really want to take you home and lay you down in my bed. If- if you are so inclined.” 

Greg didn’t know how long he just stood there, his mouth open like a fish on land. He snapped out of it when he felt Sherlock’s hand on his chest, the other one cradling his cheek. He found Sherlock’s gaze, staring into it for a long time. There were probably a million reasons why this was a bad idea but Greg couldn’t voice one of them out loud.

“I like the beard.” Sherlock whispered, moving his thumb lower so he could touch it and Greg smiled, reaching out to touch Sherlock’s hair. 

“It’s softer than I imagined it would be.” Greg said, playing with a few of Sherlock’s curls. He felt Sherlock’s other hand on his chest, warm and heavy and he placed his free hand over it, patting it twice. 

“Can I- kiss you?” Sherlock asked, his voice barely audible. There was a mix of emotions in Sherlock’s eyes, making them shine and Greg moved, cupping Sherlock’s head between his hands, really looking into that beautiful face. He squinted, trying to see, to deduce just like Sherlock. Sherlock waited, not saying anything and after a while Greg released him. His heart was exploding inside his chest, part of him still thinking it was all some hyper-realistic dream. 

“Is this- real?” 

Sherlock nodded, his fingers grabbing hold of Greg’s shirt and Greg leaned forward, pressing their mouths together. The tiny intake of breath made it clear that this was real and he licked the seam of Sherlock’s lips, silently asking for more. Sherlock opened his mouth, allowing him in and Greg moaned when their tongues found each other, exploring every inch while they held each other tightly. 

When they pulled apart, Greg was half hard, Sherlock wasn’t any better and they glanced at each other, somewhat shyly. Sherlock gave Greg a small smile, his cheeks a beautiful pink color, and Greg smiled back, all of a sudden feeling 15 again. 

“That was-”

“Can I take you home now?” Sherlock interrupted, eagerness mixed with uncertainty, and Greg couldn’t help but laugh. He laughed as he pulled Sherlock back against him, placing a kiss on his mouth and running a hand through Sherlock’s curls. 

“Are you always this impatient?” 

“Only with things that matter.” Sherlock said, his voice soft and sincere. 

“Okay, then. Let’s get out of here.” Greg said, turning off his computer, taking his coat and quickly putting it on. He closed the door of his office, taking Sherlock’s hand briefly in his own before walking towards the exit and followed Sherlock home.

  
  


The end.


End file.
